


Bound

by Smuternatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Flirting, Kinbaku, M/M, guitar shop owner Dean, rope binding, tight rope binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22840330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smuternatural/pseuds/Smuternatural
Summary: Dean is a guitar shop owner and meets a stranger during a storm.Pic I got inspiration from is in the beginning of the story
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Bound

Great. Just fucking great. Dean watched as the storm clouds that had been threatening to burst all day opened up and drenched the streets in pouring rain.

No one came into the shop while it was raining and he couldn’t really blame them. Lugging a guitar case and whatever other instrument they needed help with into his music shop was a bitch on a normal day. So coming in when there’s a proverbial hurricane outside? No dice.

He just finished his last guitar lesson for the day when he heard thunder crash overhead. The lights flickered and the shops’ windows rattled.

“Jesus you feel that, Mr. Winchester?” The teenager with a Nirvana t-shirt stopped strumming and looked up at the blinking lights.

Dean sighed and ran his hand down his face. “Oh, yeah. It’s gonna be a big one. Your mom here yet?”

The kid lifted off his stool and squinted out into the street. “Yep,” he said pointing to a red truck. “Right there. Is it cool if I—”

“Yeah, definitely Dylan. Get outta here before we’re all swept down the street.” He patted him on the shoulder and helped him pack up his gear and music. It was quickly becoming darker outside and the rain was pelting off the shops’ awning so hard it sounded like hail.

“Good luck,” Dean chuckled before turning the ~OPEN~ sign to ~CLOSED~

Dylan huffed a laugh. He stood at the glass door, hopping from one foot to another before he psyched himself up enough to shove the door open and look both ways before darting across the street. Dean watched as he shook his long floppy hair at his mom who put her hands up in protest and shoved his shoulder playfully.

Dean went around the shop and hung up the guitars that had been used that day, gently wiping each one down with a cloth to get rid of little kids finger prints. He couldn’t bring himself to say no when a kid asked him to get a ukulele or even an electric guitar down for them to play on.

Just as he picked up a discarded piece of sheet music Dylan left behind, Dean heard the zapping of electricity.

“Shit—”

The store was shrouded in darkness. Dean peered outside to the pizza parlor next door. Their electricity was out, too. He groaned as he leaned over the counter. He was going to have to go down into the basement that he absolutely hated and try flipping the breaker. Before he could peel himself off the counter, the bell over the door chimed.

“Can’t ya read? We’re closed,” Dean grumbled.

“I apologize,” a voice said. A deep, husky, travels right to your dick voice.

Dean’s head whipped up and looked towards the door and his brain apparently forgot how to form words.

A man with dark, wind swept hair stood in the entryway. He wiped his hands off on his already soaking pants as he frowned. He shook his head at his efforts and gave up trying to dry his hands.

“This storm came out of nowhere and I’m parked a block away,” the man said.

Dean watched as beads of rain dripped down his face and clung to his collar bone.

“I can—” the mans unfairly blue eyes looked to Dean, gesturing towards the door with a dripping sleeve.

“What? Oh. Oh! No. No way, man. Come on in,” Dean stuttered. “The, uh—” Dean snapped his fingers, trying to remember how to speak again. “Power. The power’s out, but you can hang out here for a bit until it passes.”

The man ran a hand over his face then shook out his hand. “I appreciate it,” he grumbled.

Dean’s brain finally clicked into gear. “I can—uh, hang on.” He quickly walked out from behind the counter and into the little bathroom in the back. He checked his reflection in the mirror before scooping up a towel and heading back out into the front room. The man was facing away from Dean, looking out into the raging storm. From this angle, Dean was able to see the gorgeous curve of of the mans back that lead down to a sinfully shaped ass. He turned when he heard Dean coming up behind him.

“It’s, uh, small but it might help.”

The man took the towel and smirked. “I’m sure it’ll get the job done.” And ok, Dean’s pants were growing tighter by the minute listening to this guy talk. “I’m Castiel.” He patted his hands dry before sticking out his hand.

Dean reached out and shook Castiel’s hand, completely focused on the way his muscles moved under his soaked and see through shirt 

And what was—

“Are you going to tell me your name or keep me in suspense?”

Dean’s eyes snapped up. “Dean. I’m–Dean.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean,” Castiel grinned, his eyes narrowing. “Can I have my hand back or did you plan on keeping it?”

Dean bit his lower lip and relinquished his grip on the other mans hand. “Sorry bout that.”

Castiel chucked as he ran the towel over his hair, cocking his head to the side and baring his neck. He shivered as he ran the damp towel over his chest, scrubbing it gently.

Dean watched as the slick shirt moved with the towel. For the second time in five minutes he was sure he saw something under the mans shirt.

“You could take that off,” Dean said without thinking. Castiel stopped wiping himself down and raised an eyebrow. “Not–no. Not like that. I just mean–I could hang it over the radiator to dry.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder towards the bathroom.

Castiel smirked, resuming rubbing the towel over his chest and down to his pants. “Not wearing anything under this one. Plus, I don’t make it a habit to undress in front of strangers.”

 _Well that’s bullshit_ , Dean thought. There was clearly something dark blue under his white button up. A tank top maybe? No, didn’t cover like a tank.

Dean bit his lip and reached a finger out, gently pulling at the confines of Cas’ shirt. “Then what’s this?” he asked roughly.

Castiel froze, hand stopping just below his belt. He narrowed his eyes and wrapped his hand around Dean’s prying finger. “Dean,” Castiel warned.

Dean’s eyes widened as he yanked his hand back. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why—I’m sorry. Really, I–”

“Do you know anything about kinbaku?” Castiel asked with an amused smile.

“Kink-a-what?”

Castiel laughed out loud and tossed Dean the towel. He pulled out his wallet and plucked out a card. “Kinbaku. Look it up, then,” he shrugged, “give me a call if you’re still interested in peeling my clothes off.”

Dean stood there, mouth open and eyes wide as he watched Castiel open the door and walk out into the pouring rain.

~~~~~~~******~~~~~~~~********~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~

Dean burst through his apartment door and immediately sat down at his laptop.

A few spellchecks later and Google finally directed him to a Japanese bondage site. He scrolled through pictures of women bound in red silk ropes, which ok, were really hot. He read about the different types of knots and the origins of the styles.

He ran a hand down his face while staring at Castiel’s business card, contemplating his options. It was no secret that Dean Winchester was bisexual, he’d just never acted on it. Sure he’d check guys out from afar and wonder what it felt like to be with a man, but when it came down to it, he always chickened out.

“Fuck it,” he said, snatching up the card. He punched Castiel’s number into his phone.

_From: Dean  
_ _Hey, it’s Dean. From the guitar shop._

As far as texts go, it was fairly normal. But as soon as he hit send, Dean’s heart was thrumming in his chest.

_From: Castiel  
_ _Hello, Dean._

Dean bit his fingernail anxiously.

_From: Dean  
_ _So, Japanese tight binding. Interesting_

_From: Castiel  
_ _I think so, yes. I’m assuming you’ve done some research?_

_From: Dean  
After I figured out how to spell it, yeah._

_From: Castiel  
And?_

Dean let out a heavy sigh as he leaned back against his leather couch.

_From: Dean  
And I think I’d still like to peel your clothes off if that’s what’s underneath._

And holy shit, he was doing this.

_From: Castiel  
I hoped you’d say that. You seemed rather…interested today. I hoped looking further into it wouldn’t scare you away._

_From: Dean  
Not scared. Just kind of an amateur when it comes to this stuff_

_From: Castiel  
Well, if you’re looking for more sources, I have plenty I could give you_

Dean chuckled as he read the message.

_From: Dean  
I mean, yeah that’d be cool. But what I meant was I’m an amateur in the dude department._

_From: Castiel_

_I see. So you’ve never been with a man?_

_From: Dean  
Nope._

_From: Castiel  
Would you like to?  
_

_From: Dean  
Fuck yes._

The next text was an address with an image attached. Dean opened it and felt his heart jump into his throat.

Castiel was wearing the same white shirt as earlier, now dried, unbuttoned and wrinkled but somehow even sexier. His soaking wet pants now gone, only the tail end of his shirt covering his hard cock. Dark blue knots the same color as his eyes were pressing into his muscled chest, making his skin dimple.

The next text came shorty after. One word.

“ _Hurry_.”


End file.
